Urban Planning and Design as Verbal and Visual Rhetoric Authors Dorina Pojani School of Geography, Planning and Environmental Management The University of Queensland Australia
[email protected] Dominic Stead Faculty of Architecture and the Built Environment Delft University of Technology The Netherlands
[email protected]
Acknowledgement This is an Authors’ Original Manuscript of an article whose final and definitive form, the Version of Record, has been published in the Journal of Urban Design, 2015, Taylor & Francis, DOI: 10.1080/13574809.2015.1071653 available online at: http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/13574809.2015.1071653#.VeT1_Je2V1A The authors wish to thank all the individuals who were interviewed for this article. Also, the authors would like to acknowledge research funding from the Netherlands Organisation for Scientific Research (NWO) under the “Connecting Sustainable Cities” (VerDuS) knowledge initiative, grant number 43411-001.
Note Accompanying tables & figures are at the end of this manuscript.
Abstract This article explores planning and design processes through a verbal and visual rhetoric approach by examining three case studies of train station area redevelopments in the Netherlands. The article illustrates how these case study projects were conceived, constructed, transformed, and communicated to the stakeholders through stories and pictures. Three threads are discerned, which run through the verbal and visual narratives employed in the case study projects. The first is a longing for identity and a return to the past. The second is a desire to project an image of progress and success. The third is a shift from grand to piecemeal planning. The three threads are overlapping but also contradictory. While some of the rhetoric appears to be post-rationalization, its employment had a strong ethical basis because, by densifying and revitalizing the areas in the vicinity of main train stations, the three projects sought to advance the public interest. While visually diverse and controversial, all three case study areas represented a response to contemporary problems, such as urban economic decline or automobile dependence.
Keywords urban planning; urban design; images; rhetoric; persuasion; Netherlands; railway stations; redevelopment.
Urban Planning and Design as Verbal and Visual Rhetoric Introduction For subscribers to pragmatic philosophy, truth is not pure and eternal but contingent on the circumstances in which it “happens” and the ways in which it is constructed and presented. In other words, truths, facts, and meanings depend on viewpoints and values. The reemergence of pragmatic philosophy has generated more interest in rhetoric (Simon 1990; Verma 1998; Holden 2008). In urban planning and design, verbal and visual rhetoric is pervasive. Practicing planners and designers are not merely neutral, objective, rational, adjudicators of the public interest: their positions are also driven by subjective values (see, for example, Alexander 2000). Urban planning and design texts and images do not have a single literal meaning given to them by their creators. Rather, any planning process involves representing the past, present, and future through plans, analysis, visualizations, and so on for numerous audiences in different contexts. It also involves giving voice to different parties, and drawing from multiple perspectives (Verma 1998; Carp 2004). The complex interplay of these diverse rhetorics can be characterized as a flow of competing discourse and imagery. The purpose of this verbal and visual rhetoric is to persuade audiences to accept proposed explanations, embrace inspiring visions, attract and channel emotional attachments, and/or undertake recommended actions that shape the course of the future (Throgmorton 2003; Hoch 2006). One important critique which has been directed against the use of rhetoric in urban planning and design is that it opens the floodgates to fabrications and sidelines facts (i.e. the truth). If misused, rhetoric involves reproducing the social relations of power in determining the character of planning projects (Nelessen 1994; Carp 2004). However, since verbal and visual rhetoric is all-pervasive, the key question is not whether urban planners and designers engage in rhetoric but how they do so and whether their motivations are in the public interest (Carp 2004). The overarching objective of rhetoric in planning and design is in reaching some kind of ideal development (“utopia”), that is, the creation of city-regions that are ecologically healthy, economically vital, aesthetically pleasing, socially just, and politically democratic (Throgmorton 2003).
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This article explores planning and design processes through a verbal and visual rhetoric approach by examining three case studies of train station area redevelopments in the Netherlands. The three case studies can be categorized under the umbrella term TransitOriented Development (TOD), which has experienced a resurgence of interest in the Netherlands over recent years (anonymized authors). TOD is generally defined as mixeduse development near, and/or oriented to, mass transit facilities. Common characteristics of TOD include urban compactness, pedestrian and bicycle-friendly environments, public and civic spaces near stations, and stations designed to be community hubs. Similar examples of area-wide station redevelopment projects can be found in various parts of Europe, and often seen as playing a key role in urban renewal, both as public spaces and communication and transportation hubs. The station area redevelopments examined in all three Dutch case studies began around the same time (late 1990s), are located in similarly sized cities, and have a relatively high profile among Dutch planners and architects. However, the design and appearance of the three stations and surrounding areas are quite different. The article illustrates how these case study projects were conceived, constructed, transformed, and communicated to the stakeholders through stories and images. While the role of verbal or written rhetoric in urban planning and design has been discussed and theorized in a number of texts in different contexts, the specific contribution of this article is a theorization of visual rhetoric in relation to urban planning and redevelopment (rather than examining the merits of the designs per se), which has rarely been the subject of inquiry. Although theoretical writings on visual rhetoric can be found from the late 1960s onwards, few have been related to urban design. The paper focuses on three threads which run through the verbal and visual narratives employed in the case study projects. The first is a longing for identity and a return to the past. The second is a desire to project an image of progress and success. The third is a shift from grand to piecemeal planning. Each of these threads can be understood as a “teleological reference class,” a concept coined by Verma (1993). A “reference class” is a logical argument that helps mediate the understanding of the similarities between entities, which in the case of this article are the three case studies. The logical formula is: X, Y, and
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Z are similar because of R, where X, Y, and Z are the case studies and R is the reference class or rhetorical thread. The reference classes identified in this article are “teleological” (as opposed to “morphological”) - meaning that the case studies are similar in concept and purpose rather than in external form. All three reference classes (i.e. nostalgia, progress, and incrementalism) are present in all three case studies to varying extents. Awareness and understanding of these plural rhetorics can assist theorists and practitioners in ascertaining, deconstructing, and evaluating the stories and images constructed by others and applied elsewhere. As part of the analysis, the article also considers the motivations of urban planners and designers in developing and justifying the visual rhetoric contained in the plans for the three station redevelopment projects. By making tacit similarities explicit and scrutinizing nontrivial similarities, planners can become more critical about their assumptions (Verma 1993). The article is divided in three parts. It starts with an overview of the main perspectives on verbal and visual rhetoric in urban planning and design. This overview combines the work of planning, art, architecture, literature, and communication scholars. The case studies and research methods are presented in the second part of the article. The third part analyses the rhetoric in the case studies. The analysis draws on qualitative data obtained through interviews and workshops with local actors and a review of planning and design materials produced in the three selected station projects.
Verbal Rhetoric in Urban Planning and Design A number of planning and policy scholars have advanced theories on how urban planners and designers achieve persuasiveness in their texts and oral presentations. A general agreement has emerged that they do so by not merely recounting events but by endowing them with meaning (Throgmorton 2003). A persuasive system of verbal rhetoric in urban planning and design operates at two levels: the content and the execution. In terms of content, widely recognized themes in public narratives include: tales of decline or fall from grace, rags-to-riches tales, tales of control-and-helplessness, heroes-andvillains-and-innocent-victims tales, blame-the-victim tales, growth to maturity tales, Golden Age lost tales, pioneer tales, simplified causal theories, conspiracy theories, and
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horror stories (Stone 2002; Sandercock 2003). Good planning stories are often about (or inspired by) memories, fears, hopes, angers, and dreams. These give good stories their power and enable listeners or readers to envision desirable transformations in their own areas, feel moved and inspired to act, and believe that certain actions will have an effect. In addition, good planning stories are filled with interesting and believable characters (i.e. noble community leaders and wicked politicians, but also impersonal forces such as the demon of capitalism or the two-faced fairy of globalization) who act in settings (i.e. slums, suburbs, and so on). For example, when portraying urbanization processes, some planners tell a tale of decline: they emphasize how industrialization, motorized transport, and the artificial culture of the city destroy or tame rural areas and wild nature. The city is rendered as a problem center of crime, unemployment, exclusion or injustice. Sometimes the villains of this story are the developers, or investors, or big businesses. A subplot is the story of locally-based social movements’ heroic efforts to resist change and destruction. An entirely different variant of the urbanization story emphasizes the movement from rural misery to urban happiness, excitement, opportunity, and prosperity (Throgmorton 2003; Sandercock 2003; Rodwin and Hollister 1984). Meanwhile, in depicting climate change, environmental planners weave together stories of control and stories of decline. The story of decline (impending floods, hurricanes, and other natural disasters) serves as the stage setting and the impetus for the story of control (climate change is manageable through government restrictions of car use and changes in travel behavior). Opposition groups, on the other hand, portray climate change as a conspiracy theory. Causal stories can act as mechanisms for linking a desired program to a problem that happens to be high on the policy agenda. At different times, planners have proposed urban mass transit and cycling as the answer to congestion (the 1950s growth-conscious era), pollution (the 1970s environmentalconscious era), energy conservation (the 1990s end-of-oil era), or urban access and livability (the 2000s urban revival era). In terms of execution, convincing and coherent public narratives tend to follow some of the key principles of fiction creation, including a pyramidal plot structure and the use of tropes (figures of speech). A classic narrative arc includes an initial problem statement, a rising action period, a crisis or climax, and finally a denouement (Inaba 2009). By the end of an enticing planning story, key antagonists have reached a certain goal or are somehow
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changed or moved significantly (Throgmorton 2003). Moral tension is essential (Sandercock 2003). For example, the story of 20th century urban structure transformations in western countries can be constructed in the following manner: people live in crowded cities › the post-WWII economic growth allows people to move to safe, clean, and spacious suburbs › people become more car dependent while cars consume increasing amounts of space, energy, and other resources › an awareness develops that alternatives are needed › planners and designers explore new urban and regional configurations, such as transitoriented development, or TOD (Inaba 2009). In terms of tropes, planners make use of preexisting symbols, figures of speech (synecdoches and metaphors), numbers (statistics), ambiguity, linguistic codes, hidden messages, and value-laden labels, to express a preferred attitude toward a situation and its characters (Throgmorton 2003; Sandercock 2003; Stone 2002). For example, public financial support for mass transit can be labeled as “investment” or “subsidy” depending on the desired connotation. Car industry actors label modern transport systems as “arteries” providing the “lifeblood” of dynamic, innovative, and prosperous societies. In this story, congestion is the villain while infrastructure is the hero. The sustainable mobility lobby, on the other hand, tells a story of suffering. It depicts modern transport modes and land-use patterns as villains, which “suffocate” humans and deprive them of basic rights and biological needs, such as physical safety, clean air, and walking opportunities (Ney 2009). Ambiguity can unite people who benefit from the same planning policy but for different reasons. While some groups (e.g. transport planners) support the compact development concept as a way to reduce travel distances, others (e.g. developers) see infill development as a vehicle for profit in highly-priced central locations. Conversely, some groups (e.g. ecologists) seek development restrictions to preserve natural resources while others (e.g. upper-middle class residents) support such restrictions to preserve the exclusive character of their residential neighborhoods (Stone 2002). Storytelling can also be used as a means to reveal not only the ways in which individual positions are constructed in the planning and design process but also how urban planning and design products are “experienced” by their “producers” and their “consumers”. Stories can be seen as an expressive method and an affective tool (Bulkens et al. 2014). Moreover, the act of verbal communication is complicated by the fact that the meaning of planners’ and designers’ texts lies not just in the author’s intent but in what the various readers bring
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to the texts. Therefore, planners and designers cannot assume that an audience will receive the same verbal message that they seek to convey and will respond in a predictable way (Throgmorton 2003).
Visual Rhetoric in Urban Planning and Design The area of visual rhetoric in relation to urban planning and design is relatively underexplored. Most theories on the persuasive power of images have been produced by scholars of art, aesthetics, psychology, communication, media, and especially advertising. Recognition has emerged from this body of theory that human experiences, which are spatially oriented, non-linear, multi-dimensional, and dynamic, often can be communicated only through visual imagery (Foss 2004). Similar to verbal rhetoric, a persuasive system of visual rhetoric in urban planning and design operates at two levels: the content and the execution. Content includes the benefit promised to the urban residents (i.e. a new, more attractive train station and surrounding area), the support for the promise, and the relationship (implicit or explicit) to competitive alternatives (Scott 1994). Evocative visual images can invite generalizations, suggest causal interpretations, highlight contrasts, and create analogies that can accompany verbal narratives (Messaris 1997). Maps are especially effective in describing causal relationships, for example between the construction or renovation of a train station (cause) and the reduction of car commute miles in the catchment area (effect). In addition, the juxtaposition of visual images can create analogies and underscore contrasts between locations or in a single location before and after an intervention or transformation. For example, bicycle advocates might juxtapose photographs of an urban area crowded with traffic with photographs of the same place from an earlier, car-free era, to emphasize the decline in urban livability. Likewise, property developers might populate their drawings with luxury vehicles or stylishly dressed people to convey the exclusivity of the built environment that they wish to develop or sell. In other cases, persuasive images can be purposely spoofs, which acknowledge the viewer’s sophistication in relation to visual rhetoric and seek to engage his or her interest through self-mocking parody (Messaris 1997). For example, digital alterations of photographs of urban sites, which contain computer-generated visualizations of proposed projects in
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previously empty areas, are often calculated to make viewers notice the special effect and appreciate the skill of the author in creating image composites. Symbolism is another important element of the content of an image. This can be understood as the relation between a specific image and an abstract idea. For example, an urban design graphic that shows people playing with children or pets in front of a proposed development can lead viewers to see gentleness as a general quality exemplified in a particular case. Symbolism of plans and images can also be understood in the sense of Freudian psychoanalysis (e.g. interpreting a tower block as a male sex-symbol or a dominant or overpowering figure in a streetscape (Arnheim 1974; Jenkins 1999). Execution (the form or style of an image) is of special interest for persuasive visual communication. It can suggest meaning and evoke reactions to the viewer in more subtle ways than visual content (Messaris 1997). Much analysis of visual style is informed by gestalt theory – a psychological discipline which maintains that all adequate representations imposes itself upon all observers as basically the same form and shape regardless of the associations and fantasies that it stirs up in some of them because of their cultural background or individual predisposition (Arnheim 1974). Verbal rhetorical elements, such as figures of speech or tropes, can be translated into forms that apply to visual rhetoric (Bonsiepe 1965). The colors, lines, textures, viewpoints, focus, layout, and rhythms in an image provide the basis for the viewer to infer the existence of emotions, arguments, concepts, critiques, themes, ideas, and allusions, and to link the built artefact with desire and action (Foss 2004). For example, pictorial elements can be placed across a layout in a manner that anticipates the unfolding of a visual story within an image, thus guiding the order of argumentation or helping viewers to remember the context and the history of a proposed solution. By connecting two or more spots in an image through similarity (of shape, scale, direction, or color), the designer can establish movement and orient the viewer on the order in which a graphic representation must be read. Consistent and simpler graphic elements (such as straight lines) are more easily identifiable in a layout than irregular ones (such as curvy lines) and, therefore can be employed to place the accent on a desired spot. Color carries strong expression and even provokes a bodily response. Red is exciting because it reminds viewers of fire, blood, and revolution while green calls up the refreshing thought of nature and blue is cooling like water. Mixtures have a stronger
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dynamic quality than pure primary colors. Certain dramatic camera angles may present an urban setting as “futuristic” while a wind effect may give the impression of a vibrant street scene. Meanwhile, a sharp focus and a high contrast may indicate modern, “cutting-edge” transportation infrastructure, pointed shapes may allude to forward movement, speed, power, or even masculinity, while soft lighting may make an urban setting appear “intimate,” “romantic,” or “feminine.” A central perspective establishes a direct connection between the events in the graphic space and the viewer, especially if the image’s central axis coincides with the viewer’s line of sight, and when the central object coincides with the focal point. It also bestows certain grandeur to an image. A tightly ordered, contained style or a lustrous tone may suggest a high-status environment, while a deliberately loose, anarchic, extravagant, or glitzy visual arrangement may be associated with youthful space users. A stable framework of verticals and horizontals may also convey a sense of prosperous peace while a slanted composition with oblique lines may be associated with dynamic movement (e.g. a lively entertainment space). The adoption of an iconoclastic style can also give a persuasive image some of the high-status aura that emanates from high art (Scott 1994; Sametz and Maydoney 2003; Messaris 1997; Arnheim 1974). In addition to helping communication with the public, urban planning and design images can also act as mediators in a design process. Visual and graphical material can, for example, be used to create a common understanding of an idea or task, and talk about a plan or design in a rich, metaphorical way (Wagner 2000).
Methods The empirical data for this article comes from three main types of information: (1) 18 semistructured interviews with local actors directly involved in the three case studies (Table 1); (2) two intensive multi-media workshops with a total of 24 Dutch specialists in public transport planning and/or station development, who were not personally involved in the case studies (Table 2); and (3) a detailed review of the content of the plans, projects, and promotional materials related to the three case studies (Table 3). The interviews were conducted at the end of 2013. In identifying and selecting the interviewees, an effort was made to include at least one project designer, one city planner, one developer representative, and one railway representative for each case study. 8
Interviewees were asked questions on the process of creation and refinement of the design concept, on the negotiations that took place among stakeholders and the input of each in the process, and their opinion of the final product. The workshops took place in February 2014, just a few days apart. The participants were drawn from the Dutch (informal) network of experts in the area of Transit-Oriented Development. They included academics, policy officials, and consultants. All participants had worked or studied in the Netherlands for more than one year. The workshops were organized around structured questions (and follow-up discussions) focusing on the strengths and weaknesses of different design approaches in the case studies. The workshop format allowed for in-depth discussions and debates dealing with many issues. Written notes were taken during the interviews, which were later transcribed. The workshop sessions were voice recorded and transcribed. All transcriptions were interpreted through an iterative process, which is standard in the analysis of qualitative data. The authors placed codes alongside the statements in the each transcript. Recurring keywords (or synonyms thereof) were used to group together concepts and identify preliminary themes. Then the entire set of transcripts was reread and the final themes were selected based on similarities and differences within the statements and the frequency with which particular keywords were mentioned by interviewees and workshop participants. Written and visual materials reviewed for this article include final plans or projects, as well as initial conceptual drawings. Promotional materials such as brochures, flyers, presentations, population survey results, and films produced by the project developers or the designers were also reviewed. These materials were obtained from the respective cities and the project designers. Some items were available on the internet. The images that accompany this article are extracted from these materials. They were analyzed based on theories of visual persuasion, their relevance to the themes developed through the analysis of transcripts, and one of the authors’ experience as practicing urban designer.
Overview of the Case Studies The case studies were selected after preliminary inquiries which indicated that they have relatively high profile among Dutch planners and architects. The locations of the three case
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studies are shown in Fig 1. Delft and Zaandam are both located in the Randstad (the more populous part of the Netherlands in the west of the country), while Arnhem is located close to the country’s eastern border with Germany. Arnhem, Delft, and Zaandam are all medium-sized cities by Dutch standards, with populations of 150,000, 100,000, and 75,000 respectively. Arnhem has a mixed economy, Delft is home to a major university and has a strong knowledge economy, while Zaandam is an old port and industrial city and home to a number of well-known Dutch companies. The station redevelopment projects, all of which are still under construction as of 2015, are located at the central station of the three cities.1 The Arnhem central station plays a substantial role in connecting several Dutch regional routes with high-speed international services to neighboring Germany. The other two stations provide regular speed but high volume domestic services. The project sizes vary considerably (Table 4). In Arnhem, the project involves the development of a new station building and office towers adjacent to it. In Delft, the rail infrastructure is being moved underground and a new station, a residential neighborhood, and a new City Hall are being developed. In Zaandam, the project involves new commercial development outside the station and a new City Hall. The urban design styles of the three stations are quite different. In Arnhem, the project has an avant-garde style which contrasts with the context. In Delft, the project has more of a traditional style, which seeks to blend with the local context. Meanwhile, the project in Zaandam has a postmodern style, which makes reference to the context but in an ironic manner (Fig. 2).
Planning and Design Rhetoric in three Dutch station redevelopment projects The main visual and verbal narrative themes (or reference classes) examined in the three case study projects comprise: (1) identity, memory, and nostalgia; (2) dynamism, progress, and uniqueness; and (3) flexibility, incrementalism, and opportunism. These are discussed in turn below. Each section opens with a brief theoretical reflection on the meaning of these particular themes in contemporary urban planning and design.
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Identity, Memory, and Nostalgia Times of rapid change, insecurity, and identity loss encourage a tremendous desire for a stabilizing, coherent, and warmly remembered past. The present day – which has seen the formation of transnational cultures, the atomization of place-based communities, the breakdown of traditional hierarchies, and a prolonged economic crisis – is precisely such a time. Planners and designers have exploited the desire to revive the past by drawing on memories and nostalgia to create new urban landscapes. By covering the problems and confusions raised by identity disruption and a consumption culture, memory serves to authenticate these landscapes as sites and to authenticate the identities of those who visit them. The reiteration of the past defines and gives contour to the self. However, newly created, gentrified, or refurbished sites of memory are often fragmented and their coherence is illusory. The identities of their visitors are diverse, stylized, and performative (Dickinson 1997). The station projects in Delft and Zaandam rely heavily on nostalgic invocations to give them rhetorical strength whereas the project in Arnhem does not (its design can be seen as more of a break with traditional station design).2 The ambiance of memory is formed by the design style and the historicity of the urban design details but also the verbal and visual narratives constructed around the projects. The celebration of old styles and appeal to a mythic past symbolizes the distastefulness of modern planning and design and, implicitly, the life that is associated with them. However, the approaches to history and identity are rather different in the two cities: solemn in Delft and comical in Zaandam. The two cases are discussed in turn. According to “rational” accounts, the Delft project was necessary from a technical perspective because of the need to increase rail and station capacity in response to the growth in passenger numbers during the last few decades. Because there was no space to add extra train tracks above ground, a plan was developed to put the rail infrastructure (tracks and station platforms) underground, which thereby freed a substantial amount of space for redevelopment. In the fervent development climate of the early to mid-2000s, the City allocated this space for new housing construction in order to attract investment and to alleviate the chronic affordable housing shortage in Delft. At the onset of the economic
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crisis, the planned number of units was considerably reduced due to dwindling interest from developers (see Table 2, D-32). The brief account above summarizes the more rational arguments for the redevelopment of the station area in Delft. At the same time, a different, more dramatic narrative prevailed in most interviews. A story was constructed about the struggle of the people of Delft against the negative impacts of rail infrastructure – specifically the noise, vibration, and visual disruption caused by a viaduct (elevated railway) built in the 1960s to avoid at-grade pedestrian and cyclist rail crossings near the center. Interviewees commented that “the viaduct construction was a good idea in the 1960s, before there were so many trains” (Interviewee 11). Later “planners much regretted their decision to build the viaduct” (Interviewee 12). Old paintings, gravures, and photographs of preindustrial/prewar Delft (containing identity tokens such as windmills) were shown alongside unflattering photographs of the viaduct taken from unfavorable angles as proof of the visual pollution it causes. Fig. 3 highlights the visual invasion by infrastructure. The movement to demolish the evil viaduct, move the train infrastructure underground, and bring back a historic watercourse acted in favor of community-building as it “strengthened the relationship between the City and the residents, and it gave small business owners a voice” (Interviewee 13). Finally, on the day when the works broke ground, “residents came out with flowers for the contractors – an unheard of event in the case of long-term works that will disturb the surroundings” (Interviewee 12). In relaying this story, the station project was positioned as an authentic continuation of the old town, which in itself is a symbolic landscape that connotes traditional Dutch virtues: strong moral character, community orientation, hard work, and stable relations. Graphically, the blending of the old and new city was represented like an oil slick, in both shape and color (Fig. 4). The search for authenticity extended from the street layout and the built environment scale to the selection of retail outlets and the façade materials for the station building. In discussing these items, interviewees often referred to the various keywords that form the Delft identity: “Vermeer,” “canals,” “windmills,” “Golden Age,” “Woonerven,” and “Delftware” to link the station representations with any preexisting image of Delft that the audience might have.
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While the station project in Delft involved a major investment in infrastructure, the rhetoric tended to play down this aspect of the plan and emphasize the small-scale, historicism, and “natural” aspects of the development above ground. Landscape features (trees, canals, and grass strips, cured or even overgrown) were often used as a distinguishing theme, addressing a contemporary concern with leisure, nature, and open space, as witnessed by the loosely defined canal borders in Fig. 5. Housing images were also consistent with the nostalgic theme of the project and acted as a metaphor for domesticity, warmth, and community. New housing was mostly represented as semi-traditional in style (even if modern in construction) and semi-detached or small multi-family in typology (in keeping with the Dutch urban tradition). Although located by a busy train station, new housing was shown as set in quiet and affluent, Woonerf-type, environments (Fig 6.). The representations of the City Hall (which is combined in one building with the new station) were also sedate. While the new City Hall and station building are modern in style, plans for the immediate surroundings contained references to the city’s history (and its historic buildings), not only as a way of projecting refinement, stability, and continuity but also linking the project with the city’s heritage (Fig. 7). The analogy of a cut diamond (both verbally and graphically) was used to illustrate its elegance and longevity (Fig. 8). Intangible attributes such as quality of life, sense of belonging, or sense of community were projected through stereotyped images: pedestrianized streets, sports, shopping, and enjoyment of the outdoors. The new station environs were presented as interesting and exciting but not exceptional or challenging, thereby inviting viewers to imagine the experience of living there as an extension of their daily life. The viewing angle set at eye level, the visualizations did not venture far from that which is familiar for most residents of Dutch cities. Pasting realistic, middle-class looking humans onto the illustrations of the redesigned cityscape emphasized the decent and comfortable lives led by “normal” people. Daytime and nighttime representations of the station area in Fig. 9 emphasize ordinary life. The designers’ idea was to distill the essence of old Delft and replicate it in the new development. The project was meant to fit seamlessly into the existing city in every direction. In the old city plan, the north-south direction is strong and clear while to move
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east-west pedestrians must zigzag around narrow streets. This scheme was replicated in the new development in an abstract form. Fig. 10 emphasizes the east-west links that need to be restored (illustrated in bright yellow color). The cornerstone buildings, which define the perimeter of the new blocks, were meant to create a skyline similar to Delft’s existing skyline: generally flat but sticking out in certain accent points. In Fig. 11, old and new accent points in the skyline were rendered in the same color to underscore its continuity. Some neighborhoods in the new plan were planned to be more “natural,” with detached houses and loosely defined canal borders – to continue the existing garden city-style neighborhoods in the west of Delft. To give it a Delft “flavor,” drawings show brick patterns, as well as other Delft elements such as ducks and swans. A canal, a central part of Delft’s identity, is the focus point of Fig. 12. In Fig. 13, the use of dimension lines that specify the Old Delft building proportions lends scientific legitimacy to the visual survey. The glass façade of the City Hall building imitates the effect of oldstyle glass panels. Delft Blue tiles are used to cover the contemporary station hall and are also shown as a background graphic in a traditional interior (Fig. 14). The station ceiling is covered with waterway prints, again evoking the Dutch canals (Interviewee 8 and 11). These types of representations are common in promotional images of smaller cities in Europe. One study describes nearly identical strategies employed in U.K. urban marketing (Erickson and Roberts 1997). The desire of the city leaders to symbolically root the project in Delft’s past is also evident from the fact that the initial foreign design firm was eventually replaced by a local design firm. According to some interpretations, the local public perceived the original station project as somewhat of an imposition (Interviewee 12), while the latter project, which builds on the first (Interviewee 11), “is more Dutch, in the Delft tradition” (Interviewee 10). Delft’s approach of seamlessly merging the project area with the rest of the city, and its subtle use of memory devices, was very popular with experts who participated in the workshops organized for this study. While not necessarily considered outstanding, Delft’s station project was the least controversial of the three case studies. Comments by workshop participants that Delft’s project is “cozier,” “traditional,” “unspectacular,” and “down-to-
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earth,” reveal that nostalgia can be a more powerful force than novelty in guiding new development: In Zaandam, as in Delft, the “rational” motivation for the station redevelopment project was simple: to create a center for a linear and somewhat disconnected conurbation (Zaanstad), which was administratively formed in the 1970s by merging seven towns (including Zaandam) located along the river Zaan and a highway. During the conceptual phase, it became clear that the new center would not merely provide the city with new commercial, civic, and residential uses. Rather, the designers sought to provide Zaandam with a place within history, as part of the lineage of a romanticized Amsterdam countryside (Interviewee 15; Interviewee 16). Unlike the station project in Delft, which emphasized authenticity (e.g. by smoothly blending with the existing city), the Zaandam project was conceived and represented a commercialized, sanitized, and, to an extent, repressive place of memory: an invented or pseudo-place, strictly under the control of the designers (Interviewee 14; Interviewee 15). The existing (rather shabby) center was almost entirely demolished to make way for the new development. In terms of design, the street layout was presented as a reproduction of the organic patterns found in traditional Dutch towns (Fig. 15). A 19th century canal, which had been filled in, was excavated and now runs through the middle of the site, water being a symbolic link with the old polder landscape but also cast as “a vital force that sets things in motion” (Table 3, Z37). The architecture sought to imitate the compositional and material unity of traditional cities (Interviewee 18). The building façades consisted of a collage of vernacular architecture elements (Fig. 16). However, history was reinterpreted with a sense of irony, recognizing the banality of the references to Dutch culture and “brand” (Interviewee 18). In a sense, the project was meant to tease other designers with a modernist leaning. The aerial visualizations of the project were hand-drawn and sketchy, with a limited color scheme, to emphasize the playful nature of the design (Fig. 17). While the project, as built, stands out as a thematic urban fragment, in visualizations it is presented as blending with the surroundings (Fig 18).
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The project designer (Soeters & van Eldonck) related two parallel tales of identity construction and local sentiment. Both stories had a “rags-to-riches” theme and were set in two places: Scotland and Zaandam. The first story tells of how Sir Walter Scott invented Scottishness” by romanticizing the country’s history and traditions. His stories of Scottish castles, battles, and brave men inspired a new image of Scotland in people’s minds. Scottish tartans – once a mark of poverty and hardship - became a world-famous symbol of the country, each design linked to a particular clan. By analogy, Zaandam was never a “real” city, in the sense that it did not start as a walled city in the Middle Ages. It was originally a linear settlement along the Zaan River, established by engine builders, who were not allowed by the guilds to operate in Amsterdam. As a consequence, Zaandam did not have a very strong identity of its own. Its old center lacked character and could be described as a towers-in-the-park modernist cityscape. The region around Zaandam does nevertheless have its own distinctive architecture of elaborate, green and white, façades that cover simple sheds. The project designer argued that this architectural identity was the “family silver” which should be preserved and enhanced. He employed wood in traditional green and white colors in the project and emphasized the façades in a humorous manner (Interviewee 18).” These two parallel stories are illustrated with a sequence of images (Fig. 19). Unlike Delft, retail rather than residential uses dominate the Zaandam station redevelopment site. In visualizations and storytelling, shopping was presented as a recreational activity taking place in a bustling, colorful and showy, pedestrian mall. Public spaces, even those in front of the City Hall (the main civic place in the redevelopment area), were presented not as social space for community interaction but rather as a shared realm of private leisure and consumption. As in the Delft case, the Zaandam representations showed the patterns of daily life, which appeal to a desire for vitality and place (Fig. 20). Verbally, the commercial focus of the project was downplayed and the rhetoric focused on identity and memory. This “genius loci” was used as a mechanism to create a deeper sense of pride in the local heritage and identity and ultimately led the local community to accept the plan and its distinctive style (Interviewee 15 and 16). Another nostalgic storyline, present in all three projects, had “urban reunification” as its main theme. This story centered on the fact that since their inception, railroads have served 16
as a technology for creating segregation, insulation, or buffer zones between two groups. The “wrong side of the tracks” is a widely observed phenomenon, which has been empirically verified by a number of studies employing both contemporary and historic data (see Noonan 2005; Oltmans-Ananat 2007). In all three case studies (Arnhem included), the station area projects were proposed as a bold patch which would physically and symbolically reunite the two sides of the city, divided by the railway. Fig. 21, which illustrates the Zaandam case, graphically emphasizes the reunification through the use of a bold dark color. In Delft and Zaandam, the station areas were envisioned as new meeting points in cities, which would thus be made whole again, in a return to a pre-18th century era, before heavy rail infrastructure severed local communities, and generally, became an urban nuisance. This storyline was partly driven by gentrification pressures in the areas surrounding the train stations, which suffer from a poor image but retain some of the old urban character now much valued by upwardlymobile, gentrifier households. In Zaandam, a sentimental mini-narrative was even constructed around the design of the bridge that connects the two sides of the city, which was lined with retail uses. The project designer explained that the inspiration came from Ponte Vecchio, an old Florence bridge with shops on both sides for human interest and safety. To illustrate the safety point, he used Edward Munch’s “The Scream” (containing the image of a scared person, alone, on a bridge) in his visual communication. In Arnhem, the reconnection of the two sides was not fully achieved. Here, residents must zigzag inside the station building in order to cross from one side of the city to the other. The strong commercial agenda of Dutch Railways (NS) was blamed for this outcome. One interviewee suggested that this was a blatant strategy to maximize the customer base for the station’s shops (Interviewee 2). In this case, retail was cast as the villain rather than the savior in a causal story.
Dynamism, Progress, and Uniqueness The increased pressure on city managers, especially those in outlying or distressed locations, to compete for investment has led them to market, “brand” or “sell” their locality. City or district branding involves the construction and projection of particular images about 17
a place in an attempt to extend awareness of that location, highlight fundamental alterations or unique features in the character of an area, revive a pre-existing but outdated image, or disassociate a locality from past failures or problems (Erickson and Roberts 1997; Bennett and Savani 2003). To be successful in attracting businesses, residents, and tourists, branding must be immediately preceded or succeeded by urban interventions. Urban design is seen as a crucial tool in urban reimagining. In the case of smaller cities with few indigenous resources, inventive avant-garde design can handle problems of peripherality and decline (Gospodini 2002). Many struggling cities long to recreate the “Bilbao effect,” that is, upgrade their image by hiring a global architect (“starchitect”) to design an iconic building. For larger cities, spectacular tall buildings (or even districts) have become a key step in securing a place in the global urban hierarchy. The recent link of skyscrapers with global standing and with iconic design has made them more acceptable even in European cities that were traditionally preoccupied with preserving the fabric of the historic city (Charney 2007). However, the transformation of urban space morphology into a business attraction risks destroying place identity and culture and generating discrimination between more prosperous, centrally-located cities and less prosperous, peripheral ones (Gospodini 2002). In the three case studies, the first emblematic gesture that suggested a search for innovation and progress, and signified high ambitions, was the selection of high-caliber firms to prepare the designs for the new development. All three firms involved in the station developments in Arnhem, Delft and Zaandam are internationally renowned, each with their own distinctive approach, which led to certain expectations and lent a particular tone to the projects, even prior to their conception. UN Studio (Arnhem) is distinguished by a penchant for high-tech parametric design, BAU (Delft) is a leading urban revitalization specialist, and Soeters Van Eldonk (Zaandam) is well-known for its postmodern, populist style, as well as the founder’s flamboyant personality. The station project in Arnhem more openly rejected the traditional image and emphasized its newfound modernity in sharp contrast with the old city. While the project in Zaandam relied more heavily on nostalgia than on modernity, and did so with a sense of irony and self-awareness. Its postmodern and sensationalist style was a novelty in the area. One workshop participant commented that the Arnhem and Zaandam projects are “like 18
spaceships that have randomly landed somewhere; they don’t have any connection with the surroundings.” However, most interviewees and workshop participants were well aware that unique and memorable design is an important selling point for contemporary cities, especially those like Zaandam and Arnhem which are battling to emerge from a peripheral status: Arnhem is located at the edge of the country, while Zaandam is overshadowed by neighboring Amsterdam. Therefore, many were willing to put aside personal aesthetic preferences focusing instead on the branding benefits, which the new station redevelopment projects had brought to their cities. In the case of Zaandam, several individuals admitted that while they might have preferred a more refined and less “Disneyfied” design, especially for the civic buildings, they appreciated the fact that project is “special and iconic,” “daring and undutch,” “a statement,” “it offers something different from Amsterdam,” “it’s good for the city’s image,” and “has put the city on the map” (Interviewee 15; Interviewee 16; Interviewee 17; Interviewee 17). The fact that Arnhem has become a stop for high-speed international trains, which connect the Netherlands to Germany, led the City towards an avant-garde design to match the elevated status of the place and suggest a progressive outlook (Interviewee 3). One of the project designers commented that a canopy cover as in Amsterdam Central Station – a classic from the steam train era – was consciously rejected in favor of a dynamic, computergenerated roof shape. Interestingly, in Arnhem the focus of the stories and visual representations was on the transport infrastructure (i.e. the station itself), rather than the surrounding public space. The new station and adjacent office towers (now the tallest buildings in the city) were presented as ultra-modern, bright, clean, and efficient. Accordingly, sleek digital graphics, emphasizing flow, fluidity, movement, and dynamism, were used for all visual representations (Fig. 22). Cold or unnatural tones dominated, establishing an association with technology and virtual space. The initial conceptual drawings of the building were juxtaposed with non-orientable, non-linear computer-generated shapes (i.e. Möbius strips, Klein bottles, and trefoil knots) and abstract diagrams, which served as form-finding tools (Fig 23.). These representations were pervaded by a fascination with mathematics and
19
science, which are by definition symbols of progress. Unlike in Delft, the future rather than the past was evoked as an inspiration, and no direct or indirect references to the old town were visible in the graphics. Interviewees told how one portion of the local community was at first opposed to the radical change of Arnhem’s historic skyline, which this project produced. Community members perceived the project as having a “forced,” “form-driven,” and “pretentious” design. These perceptions might reflect the deep-rooted Dutch antagonism towards tall buildings. In order to make this project acceptable and appreciable, the verbal and visual rhetoric employed here repeatedly stressed the aesthetic and artistic quality and uniqueness of the design (Interviewees 1, 2, 3 and 4). As in Zaandam, the design itself – albeit a futuristic rather than a nostalgic one – was given the center stage in uniting and moving the characters involved in the story (i.e. the planners, the politicians, and the community). One interviewee commented that locals are now “proud” and “jealous” of their station design. Out of the three cities used as case studies, Delft has the most secure status as a well-known historic city and a sought-after tourist destination. As a consequence, the verbal and visual rhetoric of the Delft case study (as well as the final product) generally stroke subtle nostalgic notes. However, the desire to project an image of progress was present here as well, if only in the narratives constructed around the station building design. Unlike public spaces, which were represented as everyday places, the interior station building was graphically represented as high-tech. Discussions of the station building revealed this nuance: Delft was referred to as a “university city,” a “city of modern people,” and a forward-thinking “city of technology.” Nonetheless, understated references to the local history were present here too. For example, Fig. 24 shows visitors inside a modern station building admiring a historic map of the old town, which is placed at the center of the composition. While highlighting the iconic qualities of the new station project, which would raise the profile of their city, many interviewees were also careful to point out that the refurbished station area would not be in competition with the traditional center but rather a complement to it. Casting the new station area in this light is more likely to appease the antagonism of city center retailers and service providers.
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Flexibility, Incrementalism, and Opportunism Traditionally, Dutch planners and the Dutch public have shared a penchant for orderliness and predictability in development (Faludi 2005). In the last decade, the Dutch planning system has been undergoing important reforms. Top-down, long-term master-plans are being abandoned. The role of planners has transitioned towards a more facilitating position in which change is supported or enabled rather than initiated. These reforms are due to a variety of factors, including an ideological reorientation towards neoliberalism and decentralization and societal changes, such as slow population growth, economic crisis, and social protest (Gerrits et al 2012). The transition of the Dutch planning system is in line with pan-European trends toward more flexibility in planning. Incremental, mid-range planning dominated by projects has come to replace long-range, grand planning (TasanKok 2008). The quest for flexibility has extended from planning to urban design. A number of designers have advanced ideas on how to create or transform, in terms of visual and experiential quality, modern, pre-packaged, pre-planned neighborhoods (Friedman 2002). One portion of the literature deems the shift towards more flexibility as positive in that it reflects the plural characteristics of the contemporary economy and society. However, other commentators express a concern that opportunity-led planning may allow the private sector to consistently prevail, thus undermining public interests (Tasan-Kok 2008). All three case study projects came into being in the late 1990s when the Dutch national economy was strong and the development sector vigorous. It was also a time when the national government made funds available for key infrastructure projects. Given the opportunity to enhance the local economy, individual cities were keen to proceed with project preparation. Typically, the rhetoric discussed in the previous section, whether inspired by nostalgia or progress, were constructed in the course of the project preparation. Starting in 2008, when the Dutch economy was shaken by the financial crisis, all three projects were downscaled. Overly ambitious new housing and office development schemes had to be set aside and, in one case, the developer went bankrupt (Interviewees 1, 6 and 14). In Delft and Zaandam, where new City Halls were planned, local residents began to resent the fact that large sums were being spent on “government palaces” (Interviewees 8
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and 16). Therefore, project rhetorics took a turn towards the concept of incrementalism. At least in theory, flexibility became a main virtue to be achieved. In Delft, where the project underwent two redesign stages by two different urban design studios, both project designers underscored their concern with organic growth. The economic crisis was framed as “a blessing in disguise” in the sense that it prevented money floods to produce catalytic changes in urban areas. The crisis was also presented as an opportunity to learn from past mistakes and change course of action. In an economic downturn, housing must be built plot-by-plot rather than all at once. The new plan only defined the perimeters of the blocks through taller cornerstone buildings; individuals are presupposed to gradually fill the in-between space in the manner of a bookshelf. The envisioned infill development is represented in Fig. 25 as an in-joke among viewers who are knowledgeable about digital image manipulation. To allow for a variety of visual styles, the City of Delft introduced innovative purchase options (i.e. land sale by square meter to individuals rather than development companies). A decade-long phasing scenario was envisioned, where infill-type development prevails. Both aerial views and street scenes in the first design stage, and the aerial views in the second design stage were generally pale and vague, merely outlining the building envelopes. A washed out style with minimal details suggests some uncertainty about the outcomes (Fig. 26). The finished nature and hyper-realistic style of the graphics representing street scenes in the second design stage reveals a stronger vision and desire to control the aesthetic future of the area (see Fig. 6). In Arnhem, the project designers talked about the power of the design concept – with interconnected rather than stacked programs - in helping the project to survive the shock of the economic crisis. In Zaandam, while retaining control of the envelope and style of the final built product, the project designers highlighted their flexible and cooperative attitude in the conceptual design stage. They condoned “Darwinian planning”: an incremental approach based on input from many stakeholders. The entire first stage of the design process was based on 2D drawings, which can be easily edited if necessary. This point also serves to illustrate the power of graphic style in urban design processes. While two-dimensional, hand-drawn images are perceived as friendlier and lower-key, three-dimensional, computer-generated
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renderings are much more intimidating for undecided and/or unexperienced viewers because they make a proposal appear “real.”
Conclusion The urban design and planning processes of the case studies analyzed in this article demonstrate again (as other authors have done before, such as Neuman 1996 and Wagner 2000) that planners and urban designers can and do engage in verbal and visual rhetoric. The case studies explored planning and design processes in the Netherlands. However, in view of the globalization of urban design practice and the homogenization of urban design taste, the verbal and visual rhetoric approaches employed here are likely to mirror the practices elsewhere in the Western world. Each of the station projects under study is a discrete and identifiable piece with a verbally and visually formulated concept which is meant to appeal to the stakeholders. Within the dominating story and image, layered secondary rhetorics can be discerned. They rely on interwoven themes, such as longing for a past golden age, efforts to “rise from rags to riches,” and learning or growth to planning maturity through the suffering caused by both the modern movement and the recent economic crisis. The main rhetorical themes identified by the authors are related to basic temporal dimensions in plan-making: past, present, and future. The plan-makers create a narrative to bind these together. Also, rhetoric helped planners and designers to reconcile functional challenges of time and space in each case. The rhetoric was multi-directional. Some of it was formulated by planners and some by consultants or community members, and was addressed to politicians, developers, the public, and/or planners. Far from a superficial gloss, rhetorical strategies were very successful in persuading politicians to fund the projects. But decision-making and persuasion was subtle and incremental. No specific turning point can be discerned in any of the case studies. The rhetoric was not always consistent and sometimes was even contradictory. In some stories, the final goal to be achieved was the enhancement or revival of the local identity while in others was the construction of a symbol of progress (i.e. a modern and unique station). The characters that populated the stories were often impersonal. For example, infrastructure was typically cast as a negative force in contemporary cities, while retail 23
business was variably cast as the friendly local hero or the demoniac representative of capitalism. The images that illustrated the stories were equally rhetorical. In both form and content they represented metaphors for community-building, coziness, and affluence, or contemporaneousness and avant-gardism. The three projects were initiated as a result of funding opportunities presented by the national government and the private sector. The foregoing stories and images were constructed to assign meaning to the projects, to legitimize the design approaches, and to help stakeholders communicate with each other. While some of the rhetoric appears to be post-rationalization, its employment had a strong ethical basis because, by densifying and revitalizing the areas in the vicinity of main train stations, the three Transit-Oriented Development projects sought to advance the public interest. While visually diverse and controversial, all three case study areas represented a response to contemporary urban problems, such as economic decline or automobile dependence. From the material presented in this article, it is clear that verbal and visual communication are both widely considered to be important by urban planning and design professionals in the Netherlands. Rhetoric, communication, and negotiation can be seen as the “soft side” of urban planning and design and an integral part of professional practice. While the two forms of rhetoric (visual and verbal) are generally seen as inseparable in the urban planning and design fields, the prevailing view is that images are more powerful than words. Designers use drawings as their meeting minutes and communication medium. However, visual and verbal rhetoric are much more than a communication medium: they help to bring urban plans and policies to life, and shape the emotional responses of the various stakeholders involved in the development process. As such, they are powerful tools of planning and urban design that planners need to appreciate and utilize.
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Tables Table 1. List of interviewees.* # Organization and position of interviewee Case study 1 EuroCommerce (development firm), former project manager 2 UN Studio (architecture studio), senior architect 3 City of Arnhem, urban planner Arnhem 4 City of Arnhem, former urban planner 5 Dutch Railways, project director 6 Dutch Railways, project manager 7 Dutch Railways, project manager 8 Mecanoo (architecture studio), senior architect 9 BAU (architecture studio), principal architect Delft 10 Palmbout (architecture studio), project designer 11 City of Delft, council member 12 Delft Bouwt (station redevelopment information center), host 13 WeSD (community organization), member 14 Multidevelopment (development firm), principal 15 City of Zaandam, urban planner 16 City of Zaandam, urban planner Zaandam 17 Dutch Railways, project director 18 Soeters & van Eldonk (architecture studio), principal architect * Eleven interviews took place in person; five interviews took place by phone; and two communications took place via email.
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Table 2. List of workshop participants. No. of participants Organization and position of participants 1
City of Zaandam, planner
1
City of Eindhoven,
2
The Hague City-Region, planners
1
Province of Gelderland, planner
1
Province of North Holland, planner
1
Ministry of Infrastructure and Environment, planner
2
Environmental Assessment Agency, researchers
2
Dutch Railways, analysts
1
Mecanoo (architecture firm), project designer
1
Noordzuiden (planning consultancy), principal planner
1
Goudappel Coffeng (planning consultancy), planner
1
RVDB (planning consultancy), principal planner
2
StedenbaanPlus (regional cooperation platform), director and planner
1
Deltametropool (knowledge exchange platform), member
4
Delft University of Technology, researchers
2
University of Amsterdam, researchers
Total: 24 Participants
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Table 3. List of written and visual materials.
Arnhem
City
# Material A1 UN Studio, Love it, Live it, Suh Kyong Won, Korea (2004) A2 Ben van Berkel architect, introductory essay, Prof. Joan Busquets, Uitgeverij 010 Publishers, Rotterdam. A3 UN Studio Design Models, Thames & Hudson, London (2007), pp. 272-289. A4 UN Studio, DO+ 2006 OV Terminal Arnhem (proj.nr.: 2004-10) A5 Intelligente Architektur, Nov./Dec. 2000, UN Studio: Arnhem Central Station, pp. 70-73. A6 Arnhem Central-Masterplan, UN Studio webpage: http://www.unstudio.com/projects/arnhem-central-masterplan A7 Arnhem Central, promotional film, available at: http://www.arnhemcentraal.nu/project/bovengronds/ov-terminal/ A8 UN Studio documentary, part 1, available at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qPVPimCCGkA A9 UN Studio, Arnhem Centraal, The Netherlands, presentation (2013) A10 Arnhem Central, image gallery, courtesy of UN Studio. D11 City of Delft, Spoorplannen, Delft kiest voor een duurzame oplossing (1993) D12 City of Delft, Ontwikkeling centrumgebied/NS station Delft (1995?) D13 City of Delft, Startnota, Bestemmingsplan Spoorzone, tekeningenbijlage (2000) D14 City of Delft, Informatiebulletin project Spoorzone, 1(1), 12 Dec. 2001 / 2(1), 10 Ap. 2002 D15 City of Delft, MER Spoorzone Delft, samenvatting (2003) D16 City of Delft, Masterplan Spoorzone Delft (2003) D17 City of Delft, Delft Spoorzone bestemmingsplan (2006) D18 City of Delft, Nieuw Delft Integraal Ontwikkelingsplan 2025 (2013)
Delft
D19 City of Delft, Spoorzone Delft video library, available at: http://www.youtube.com/user/spoorzonedelft/videos D20 City of Delft, Station development, web platform: http://www.spoorzonedelft.nl/ D21 City of Delft, Spoorzone, information center: http://www.delftbouwt.nl/ D22 Delft Station, image gallery, courtesy of BAU, Mecanoo, Palmbout, and City of Delft D23 Mecanoo, Het nieuwe kantoor & NS station, Delft, (2001 / 2007 / 2008 / 2009 / 2011) D24 Palmbout, View of Delft, brochure (2012) D25 Palmbout, Delft Spoorzone. Studie naar inpassing spoortunnel en herontwikkeling stationsomgeving (2013) D26 ProRail, Spoorzone Delft, information flyer D27 Joan Busquest + studio, Spoorzone Delft, En visie op stedelijke verbetering (1999) D28 Joan Busquets, “Delft Railway Zone, Public Space Design” plan (2010) D29 Joan Busquets, “Importance of public space” presentation, Brabant, Spatial Vibrations Symposium, 18 Nov. 2011. D30 Joan Busquets, “Re-scaling the city: Infrastructure as new geographies,” presentation, TU Delft, 28 Sept. 2013 D31 Joan Busquets, Open space project for the Spoorzone Delft, presentation 7 Nov. 2013 D32 Yawei Chen, Delft railway station area development, presentation, TU Delft, 17 Feb. 2014.
Zaandam
Z33 Zaandam, image gallery, courtesy of Sjoerd Soeters Z34 Sjoerd Soeters, presentation, TU Delft, 25 Ap. 2013. Z35 Dutch Profiles: Soeters Van Eldonk Architects, film (2012) Z36 Multi Development, Rustenburg & Kop Noordsche Bos, Zaandam (2009) Z37 City of Zaandam, Storytelling in het nieuwe centrum van Zaandam (2012) Z38 City of Zaandam, Inverdan: Eigenzinning centrum van de Zaanstreek, information brochure, no date. Z39 City of Zaandam, Concept masterplan Inverdan (2003)
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Table 4. Basic data on the case study projects. City Start date Project Projected project (planning area cost and/or land acquisition) Arnhem 1996 2 ha Total: €555 million
Delft
1998
Zaandam 1998
30 ha
100 ha
Total: €650 million (tunnel and urban redevelopment), national government contribution: €330 million, municipal contribution: €115 million Total: €800 million, municipal contribution: €260 million, private developers: €450 million
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Projected types of new development
Architects/Urban Designers
22,000 m2 offices (initial projections: 80,000 m2 offices), 57,500 m2 station 1.132 housing units (downscaled to 750 housing units), 18.500 m2 other functions
Amsterdambased UN Studio
20,000 m2 shops, 2,600 housing units, 80,000 m2 offices, 25,000 m2 city hall, 4,000 m2 library
Amsterdambased Soeters & Van Eldonk
Barcelona-based BAU, later succeeded by Delft-based Mecanoo and Rotterdam-based Palmbout
Figure Captions Figure 1. Locations of the three case study cities. Figure 2. Plans and views of TOD projects in Arnhem, Delft, and Zaandam (left to right). Images courtesy of respective municipalities. The arrows on the plans (above) indicate the approximate viewpoints for the images presented below. Figure 3. Graphic history of the rail track infrastructure in Delft.Table 3, D28, pp. 20-21. Figure 4. Project blending with the surroundings. Table 3, D28, p. 33. Figure 5. Emphasis on nature and leisure. Table 3, D24, p. 45. Figure 6. Woonerf representations. Table 3, D24, p. 43. Figure 7. Juxtaposition of old and new buildings. Table 3, D23-2011, pp. 26-27. Figure 8. Visual analogy (in shapes and colors) between a cut diamond and the new station building. Table 3, D23-2008, pp. 28-29. Figure 9. Daytime and nighttime representations of the station area. Table 3, D23-2011, pp. 28-31. Figure 10. Schematic road plan. Table 3, D28, p. 32. Figure 11.Old and New Delft skylines. . Table 3, D24, pp. 58-59. Figure 12. Delft canals in focus. Table 3, D24, p. 51. Figure 13. Pictorial references to Old Delft materials (above) and building proportions (below). Table 3, D23-2011, p. 66, and D24, p. 19. Figure 14. Delft Blue tiles: actual use (above) and inspiration (below).Table 3, D23-2007, p. 4 and 15. Figure 15. Preliminary sketch of the Zaandam project. Table 3, Z33. Figure 16. Proposed façade consisting of a collage of old Zaanse façades. Table 3, Z33. Figure 17. Aerial sketch of the Zaandam project. Table 3, Z39, p. 40. Figure 18. Project shown as blending with the surroundings. Table 3, D28, p. 33. Figure 19. Parallel tales of identity construction: Scotland (left) and Zaandam (right). Table 3, Z33. Figure 20. Computer visualization (left) and actual photograph (right) of the main shopping street. Table 3, Z36, p. 13 and Z37, p. 16. Figure 21. Sketch of the Zaandam project showing the reestablished connection between the two sides of the city. Table 3, Z33. Figure 22. Visualization of Arnhem’s station interior. Table 3, A10. Figure 23. Form finding exercise. Table 3, A3, p. 274. Figure 24. Interior of the station/City Hall. Table 3, D23-2009, p. 18. Figure 25. Example of infill development. Table 3, D18, p. 107.
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Figure 26. Buildings and public space in the Delft project. Table 3, D28, pp. 106-107.
Notes
1
Many Dutch cities, even medium-sized cities like Arnhem, Delft, and Zaandam, have more than one railway station in the city. There are four railway stations in Arnhem; Delft and Arnhem both have two stations. 2 Because fewer nostalgic invocations can be found in the case of Arnhem, its station redevelopment project does not feature strongly in the discussion in this section.
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